


An Old Solution

by childrenofthesun



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: But not today, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Enemies With Benefits, Gabriel Has a Penis (Good Omens), Hate Sex, Humour, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, Size Kink, someday I'll write something with more than the thinnest veneer of a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childrenofthesun/pseuds/childrenofthesun
Summary: In which Crowley has more of a sex drive than he has sense, and an angry and flustered Gabriel finds himself rather dubiously 'punishing' the demon for his wicked behaviour.
Relationships: Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 138





	An Old Solution

**Author's Note:**

> With my usual stunning adherence to writing fic set in a specific time period, this takes place sometime before the Apocalypse.
> 
> Title from Bedroom Hymns by Florence + The Machine (many thanks to Pho for the assist!)

Crowley was happily minding his own business, window shopping his way down Bond Street, when he saw none other than the Archangel Gabriel stepping out of a menswear shop. He froze, looking for a likely gaggle of human pedestrians that he could blend in with and pass by unnoticed. Drawing an Archangel's attention was not particularly high on his priority list. They had a bit of a nasty tendency to smite first and ask questions later.

Too late. Lavender eyes met his and hardened as Gabriel abandoned whatever route he was planning on taking, instead making a beeline for Crowley.

_Shit._

Crowley promptly spun on his heel and started walking, very fast, in the opposite direction.

_Shitshitshit–_

He spotted an empty shop, the tarpaulins covering the windows indicating some sort of renovation – and, given the number of listed buildings in the area, it was more than likely that any construction was shaping up to be a needlessly long and drawn out process to ensure compliance with local planning authorities – and headed straight for it. He ignored the lock on the door, simply letting himself in and hastily shutting the door behind him.

Once inside, it was clear that work on the interior hadn't even really begun – floor still swept clean, the tarps the only real indication that the place wasn't just awaiting new tenants. There wasn't much visually to give away what the shop used to sell, the shelves stripped bare, and Crowley would have been disappointed by that if not for the fact that he didn't have the time to peruse. He could smell what had once been sold here, though, supple leather and the faint tang of metal, tucked discreetly in the back room with the more broadly-appealing lingerie displayed in the main shop, all edged with an erotic thrill that made him tingle pleasantly.

But he was getting distracted. There was sure to be a staff room back there somewhere, and from there a back entrance to the alley beyond.

The door opened behind him and he blessed under his breath, Gabriel fast approaching as he cast a look over his shoulder. He'd been hesitating too long.

He ran, making to vault over the bare service counter and into the staff room behind it, but was brought up short by a hand gripping onto his collar. He let out an abrupt gurgle as the fabric of his shirt bit into his neck, choking him. Then he was sailing through the air for a brief second before slamming into a wall, sunglasses flying off in a random direction as he slid down the wall with a groan.

"The demon Crowley," Gabriel announced, looking down at him with contempt. "What nefarious dealings do you have here?"

"Oh, it's the Archangel Gabriel, isn't that nice," Crowley wheezed. "I was honestly just nipping out for a bit of clothes shopping–"

Gabriel made a disdainful sound. "Don't try that with me. Tell me why you're in London."

"Why am I– I _live_ here!"

The Archangel frowned. "No, you don't. You're a demon, you live in the fiery cesspools of Hell."

"All right, maybe think of it more like a long-term remote work assignment," Crowley offered from his spot the floor, making no move to get up, seeing as that would most likely end with him being tossed at the wall like a wet noodle again. "I've been stationed in London for a few decades now. Off duty at the moment, though," he added hastily.

"Evil doesn't rest," Gabriel replied, still dubious.

"Evil actually rather enjoys taking naps," Crowley countered, "And likes having a weekend off every now and then."

Gabriel kept frowning, possibly wondering whether he could justify discorporating Crowley when he wasn't technically in the process of tempting humans to sin. Crowley dared to hope Gabriel would be merciful, and almost laughed aloud at his own foolishness.

"Is something funny?"

Crowley quickly wiped any trace of a smile from his face. "Of course not. I'm dead serious, always am, people're always telling me to lighten up," he babbled, hastily shoving himself upright as Gabriel strode toward him. He tried to dart off to the side, to duck under Gabriel's reach, but the Archangel almost casually reached out and caught him by the hair, pulling tight. Crowley's knees buckled and he folded like an accordion. Gabriel easily stepped behind him, out of the way of his uncoordinatedly flailing limbs, and drove him down onto the ground.

He couldn't be sure, but it was entirely possible that Gabriel was trying to make a point, getting him down on his belly like this. Crowley snarled and grabbed at Gabriel's fingers, trying to pry them free of his hair, only for Gabriel to use his free hand to gather Crowley's wrists up, pinning them against the floor above his head. With another snarl, Crowley tried to twist away, but Gabriel had him completely trapped, and he stilled, breathing hard, trying desperately to think.

Gabriel let out an amused chuckle. "I've gotta say, the fact that overpowering the Serpent of Eden was this easy is a little disappointing. Not like I was expecting a challenge to begin with, but this was a little pathetic, even for a demon."

Crowley sniffed, feigning nonchalance. Maybe if he was pathetic enough, Gabriel would decide he wasn't worth the bother. "I let you win, clearly. Didn't want to bruise your precious angelic ego."

The humour in Gabriel's tone fled. "Not particularly gracious in defeat, are you? Why am I not surprised," he murmured, beginning to glow with a divine light that was instantly, uncomfortably hot against Crowley's skin. "It's a little old-fashioned, but maybe a good smiting would teach you some manners…"

Unbidden, a shiver went down Crowley's spine, and it had very little to do with the fear he should have been feeling. Instead, he felt…

No. _Nonono_. He was _not_ going to let himself get turned on by a strong, powerful Archangel with thick arms and broad shoulders pinning him to ground–

"I'd like to see you try," Crowley said before he could stop himself.

_Oi, brain, are you listening to me? What the fuck?_

The divine light abruptly shut off. Gabriel frowned down at him, reassessing, obviously trying to figure out why Crowley sounded like he _wanted_ Gabriel to smite him. His eyes narrowed. "Don't try to _tempt_ me, hellspawn. Whatever your game is, I'm onto you. I'm an Archangel. I'm beyond your pitiful wiles."

Crowley scowled and tried to squirm free, because that was what he was meant to be doing, right? He was meant to be fighting for his freedom, not leaning into the bruising grip Gabriel had on his wrists, not tugging against the other hand fisted in his hair so that his nerves sang with sensation, not–

Not rubbing his arse up against the _massive erection in Gabriel's trousers, holy fucking shit_.

Suddenly, Crowley found himself entirely unable to focus on anything else. Not that anyone could really fault him for that, there was an awful lot to focus on.

What in Hell's name was Gabriel doing with a cock like that? There was no way it was standard issue, that would be ludicrous. And cumbersome. It was like he had an extra leg swinging around down there.

Which could only mean that Gabriel had _chosen_ a cock like that. Deliberately. He'd chosen a cock like that, and now, it was hard and pressed up against the cleft of Crowley's arse.

What was happening.

Gabriel couldn't possibly be getting off on overpowering a demon like this. Obviously, the Archangel liked power, but not like _this_ , surely? It had to be down to the ambient lust still lingering in this place, or, or _, something_. There had to be some other reasonable explanation for this, one that didn't make Crowley's cunt pulse with desire–

"Beyond temptation, huh?" Crowley gasped, mouth disobeying him once more, pointedly tilting his hips back against Gabriel's cock. "You sure about that?"

Gabriel stiffened – in more ways than one – and shoved Crowley down harder against the ground, making him feel the grind of his cheekbone against the unrelenting surface. The pain flared and bloomed and filled his face with a heat that promptly raced its way down below his waistband.

"You'll watch your tone, demon," Gabriel ordered. "Remember who you're talking to."

There was a quiet, timid voice of reason in Crowley's head, suggesting that maybe trying to goad an Archangel into fucking him wasn't amongst the brightest ideas he'd ever had. Couldn't Crowley be just a little bit sensible, have just the barest sense of self-preservation?

It was a low bar, but Crowley had always been better at limbo than high jump.

"Oh, yes, teach me to mouth off at an Archangel, I like the sound of that," Crowley said, instead of the many, infinitely less insane options available to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see an almost quizzical expression amidst the anger on Gabriel's face, like he didn't quite know what to do with the demon before him now.

Yeah, that was fair. Crowley wasn't quite sure what to do with himself either.

"What, you _don't_ want to punish me for my misdeeds? Make me wish I'd been more careful with what I wished for?"

Gabriel's hold on him tightened further, Crowley's bones nearing the point where they'd start creaking and cracking in protest.

This was objectively stupid of him. He knew that. The knowledge was going to do absolutely nothing to stop him from pushing further, though.

"Put me in my place, go on, show me how powerful and _righteous_ you are–"

Gabriel's fingers disentangled from Crowley's hair to instead stuff themselves into his mouth, effectively gagging him, finally stopping the inanities spewing over his lips.

"I am an _Archangel_ ," Gabriel insisted harshly. "You will _not_ speak so disrespectfully to me."

Crowley curled his tongue around Gabriel's fingers and moaned a little.

With a disgusted expression, Gabriel pulled his fingers free, but the look on his face was belied by the way his cock twitched against Crowley's arse.

"Oh," Crowley said, unable to help himself now that there wasn't anything physically stopping him. "Have I got you all wrong?" He grinned, showing maybe a few too many teeth. "Are you _scared_ , Gabe?"

_That_ got a favourable reaction. Gabriel growled wordlessly and grabbed at the back of Crowley's head, thumb curling into the crook of his jaw and forcing his chin up as he pressed Crowley's face hard against the ground. Crowley barely smothered a moan, shifting subtly up against the Archangel's body.

"I wouldn't blame you," Crowley continued conversationally, voice only slightly strained by the odd angle of his neck. "I've got a _wealth_ of experience, me, I'm sure that being able to impress me must be a daunting prospect for you."

Gabriel bristled. "I already beat you in a fight," he pointed out, pressing down a little harder on Crowley's neck as if for emphasis. It was making it a little hard to breathe, and while he didn't need oxygen to survive, it made talking a fair bit more difficult than he liked. Not to mention that he could do without the reminder that Gabriel could very easily discorporate him. It really wouldn't take much for the Archangel to snap his neck. "I think if either of us needs to be worried about not looking impressive, it's you."

All right, maybe this was all starting to head back down a more dangerous path than Crowley had intended. Still, he'd started now, he couldn't just back down. Crowley liked to win, even if his attempts to do so were on occasion to his own detriment. It wasn't even about Gabriel, specifically, which was convenient, given that Crowley thought he was an utter wanker. He just happened to be a wanker with a deliciously large cock.

He made a noncommittal sound, struggling not to feel grateful when Gabriel's grip loosened a little. "It's all right to admit that you're just not very good at it," he said innocently. "Everyone's got something they're rubbish at, it's perfectly natural."

Gabriel immediately squeezed harder again. Crowley arched into the pain of it with a soft grunt. "For demons, maybe," Gabriel sneered. "Angels hold ourselves to a higher standard."

"Oh, of course," Crowley demurred, then paused. "I have to admit, though, it's a little disappointing to know that someone with a… _toolset_ like yours doesn't know how to use it."

Crowley could taste the sharp, strong scent of the Archangel's pride rising in the air around them.

He grinned.

_Got him._

"I know how to use it," Gabriel snapped, not even seeming to realise when he rolled his hips against Crowley's arse. It was only going to be a matter of time before he gave in, now, just another little nudge...

Crowley's eyes glittered as he shot back, "Prove it, then." He'd often found that implying someone was incapable of doing something was a good way to ensure that they would, if only out of spite.

The sudden miracle felt bright against his skin, the smell of ozone hitting his nostrils as he found himself with belt unbuckled and jeans undone, denim shoved unceremoniously halfway down his thighs and his embarrassingly soaked pussy exposed to the elements. He twisted his head against the grip Gabriel still had on his neck to get a look at what the Archangel was doing, only to find him staring down at his own cock like it had betrayed him.

Oh, good. They were in the same boat, then.

Satan, but it was unfair that _Gabriel_ of all people got him this wet. Unfortunately, Crowley's pussy was a thirsty little slut and didn't much care if Crowley found the Archangel personally objectionable.

"So," Crowley drawled after several seconds of inaction. "Is your plan to just leave me here with my arse in the breeze, then? Are you willing to take constructive criticism on that idea, because I have a few notes."

The sound he let out when the head of Gabriel's cock nudged against his wet folds was utterly mortifying, as was his full-body shiver when Gabriel leant over him, dwarfing him with his size, and murmured against the shell of his ear, "I _will_ make you regret testing me."

Crowley sincerely doubted that. The only regret he could see himself experiencing – other than the embarrassment inherent in the fact that he was about to let himself get absolutely railed by an Archangel – was if he ended up cumming so hard he discorporated. Which, given the way his heart already seemed to be forgetting how to pump enough blood to his brain to be able to function, was a distinct possibility.

"See, you say that," he said, and look at him go, managing to put words together in a coherent sentence, well done, Crowley, "and yet I fail to find myself struck dumb with awe."

Arguably, he was already quite dumb, getting himself into this situation in the first place, but that was neither here nor there.

"Oh, you will," Gabriel promised, then slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside Crowley's cunt.

Crowley did an admittedly poor job of biting down on his groan of satisfaction as Gabriel sank into him, the stretch of it immediate with that sinful mix of pleasure and pain. He was similarly transparent with his sound of disappointment when Gabriel didn't then begin properly fucking him, instead just hovering, suddenly uncertain, as if he hadn't really planned on what to do once he'd stuck his cock in a demon.

"Need me to give you some pointers, there, Gabe?" Crowley snarked, only a little breathless, wriggling his hips a little and grinning around the moan threatening to escape him at how the motion moved Gabriel's cock inside him.

"Shut up," Gabriel snapped back. "I know what I'm doing."

"Sure you do," Crowley replied, in a tone that clearly indicated that he thought Gabriel had absolutely no clue what he was doing. "Well, go on, then, you've got your cock in me already, you're past the point of being too embarrassed to ask for directions, surely."

"I've read reports," Gabriel said stiffly, defensively, and Crowley laughed out loud.

"Oh, you've read _reports_ , I'm sorry, I didn't realise _that_ ," he said, amused sarcasm dripping from every word. "And how _is_ translating something on paper to the real world going for you, because it seems to me that– _oh, fuck_."

Crowley's words cut off with an abrupt gasp, as what he'd thought was the entirety of Gabriel's cock inside him turned out to only be about half its length, if the way the Archangel's tip suddenly felt like it was poking him in the fucking lungs was any indication. Crowley dizzily found himself glad that his insides were a custom job without a lot of the unnecessary extras. He got the feeling that if he'd been human, the depths Gabriel was currently plundering would have dislodged something important.

Oh, but it _ached_ , it stung like hellfire, it set Crowley's insides aflame as Gabriel's cock slowly dragged out of him, then just as slowly pressed back in. Crowley tried to say something appropriately sharp and witty, but all that came out was a rather confused mess of syllables as he scrabbled instinctively against the hard floor. His entire cunt seemed to throb as he was filled, that delicious ache rolling out through to his limbs, making his eyelashes flutter and his limbs quake.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said, the low timbre of his voice reverberating through Crowley's ribcage, his insufferable smugness returning almost instantly. "I didn't catch that."

"Hngh," Crowley tried, but Gabriel rocked his hips forward right as he'd started talking, the utter bastard, distracting Crowley with how smooth the motion was with only his own arousal to ease the way. The thought just made him wetter, a slick line of it beginning to trickle its way through the coarse red hair crowning his cunt towards his stomach.

"Isn't this the punishment you were after, demon?" Gabriel sounded unbearably self-satisfied as his cock ground against Crowley's g-spot. Crowley doubted he was doing it on purpose, that it was more a side effect of the fact that Gabriel's cock was so big that it was pressing up against Crowley's everything, filling him so exquisitely that it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Oh, dear Satan, if Gabriel was about to tell him to Be Not Afraid, Crowley would– well, he'd probably just have to lie there and take it, in all honesty, there weren't many other options available to him. He'd be mad about it, though.

"Don't worry," Gabriel said instead, "I'll make sure you serve your penance."

Even though he'd really brought it on himself, Crowley couldn't help but roll his eyes at the way Gabriel was framing this. Then Gabriel began to rock into him rhythmically, and Crowley's eyes rolled back for an entirely different reason, letting out a soft grunt as he pushed back to meet the Archangel's thrusts.

Gabriel quickly seemed to decide that Crowley's clothes were too cumbersome to deal with at all anymore, and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Crowley's skin prickled with the sudden cold, all the parts of his body in contact with Gabriel's now flaring all the hotter. Gabriel's jacket was unbuttoned, the open fabric draping over Crowley's sides, but that – and undoing his trousers enough to have his cock out, obviously – was the only concession Gabriel had made with regards to his own clothes, and the disparity of their respective stages of undress made Crowley whine a little. He found himself pressing back into Gabriel's heat far more than he'd ever admit to, the gentle scrape of the luxury wool blend of the Archangel's suit setting Crowley's nerve endings alight.

Gabriel's hand slid over his hip, over his stomach, and Crowley shuddered at the feel of that warm, broad hand on his skin. Then, Gabriel pressed against him to feel his own cock under Crowley's skin, and Crowley nearly screamed at the way it made Gabriel's cock grind even harder against the inside of him. Gabriel's fingertips brushed against Crowley's clit seemingly by accident, but even that slight touch made Crowley's entire body jolt.

He felt Gabriel smirk against the nape of his neck. "Well, you obviously don't want me touching you there," he murmured, pulling back.

What a bloody _prick_. Crowley made a dissatisfied noise and bucked in what space he had – which, given that Gabriel had knelt between Crowley's legs, forcing his knees out, and had him pinned down by the neck besides, really wasn't all that much. It apparently did the job, though, Gabriel's fingers returning to swirl tidy circles around Crowley's clit as the palm of his hand pressed against the demon's stomach once more.

Crowley breathed hard through his nose, lest he loose the pitiful moan building in his throat as Gabriel perfectly stroked him, like he'd already spent a thousand years learning exactly the motions necessary to send Crowley completely wild. Couple that with the steady, deep thrusts of Gabriel's obscenely large cock, and Crowley was liable to be driven out of his satanblessed mind.

Gabriel shouldn't be _allowed_ to be this good at sex. Not when he was so insufferable in all other aspects. It just wasn't fair.

Crowley was not proud of the whimper he let out when Gabriel's fingers retreated from his clit once more, sliding slick over his hip for better purchase. Gabriel began to fuck into him harder, balls slapping against Crowley with a weighty smack, breathing growing heavier as his pace increased. Crowley took a moment to be utterly incensed that it was about to be over already, just when it was getting really good. Then he realised Gabriel hadn't picked up speed because he was about to cum, but because Crowley was about to.

Crowley's orgasm built and rose and then completely obliterated him, a long moan of shocked pleasure leaving him without his permission as he shook himself apart on Gabriel's cock. He bucked and heaved and groaned, pleasure cascading through him as he clenched down hard, spine arching past the bounds of human flexibility as he pulled against the Archangel's grip. Gabriel's fingers slipped down from Crowley's hips once more to press against his clit, and Crowley screamed, thrashing wildly at the barrage of pleasure assaulting him.

Gabriel's pace didn't falter even with all of Crowley's writhing in ecstasy, because of course it didn't, because of course his pseudo-corporate give-one-hundred-and-ten-percent attitude extended to sex. Not that Crowley was complaining, mind you. In fact, he planned to do exactly nothing to stop Gabriel from fucking him through several more consecutive orgasms in rapid succession. Dazedly, he wondered whether Gabriel was keeping track of how many times he'd made Crowley cum for his own personal gratification, because Crowley had definitely lost count already.

He thought about Gabriel crossing paths with him at some point in the future and fucking him again, making a point of wringing more orgasms from him than the first time around, and nearly started drooling. Then he came again, because apparently he was making something of a habit of it.

Time folded in on itself a little after that, what could have been minutes or days passing as Gabriel tirelessly impaled Crowley on his cock. Crowley thought Gabriel might have started talking again, but Crowley was far too focussed on the sensations rolling through his body. It was likely just some drivel about the might of Heaven, anyway, Crowley sincerely doubted he was missing out on anything by keeping his attention directed elsewhere. He let himself drift, the rubbed-raw sting of his palms and knees a distant, pleasant feeling underscoring the deep, all-encompassing ache of Gabriel burying himself so deep that Crowley was still a little shocked each time the Archangel managed to find his way back out.

"Fuck," Gabriel said succinctly. Both hands gripped tight on Crowley's hips as he somehow pounded into him even harder, before pressing in so far that Crowley almost could have sworn he could taste it when Gabriel came. The divine essence of it stung against Crowley's insides, and he let out a pathetic mewl as the sensation pushed him over the edge into yet another orgasm of his own. He trembled and nearly collapsed when Gabriel pulled out of him, a faint pop of static crackling along his skin as the Archangel miracled away the mess.

"I hope you've seen the error of your ways," he told Crowley, returning to holding him down by the neck.

"Buh," Crowley replied, struggling to get his brain to fire on all cylinders again.

Gabriel squeezed a little. "That's not a proper response, demon."

He scraped together enough brain cells to form a sentence. "Yes, bloody– fine, you've got… an _acceptable_ level of skill in the carnal arts. I guess." Satan, how was it that _this_ arsehole was the best dick Crowley had ever had? It was just plain insulting. He was sure God was laughing at him somewhere.

The hand on his throat tightened fractionally, and Crowley felt his overwrought cunt pulse with desire. "You don't sound very grateful for how merciful I've been to you. I _could_ have just smote you."

Crowley gritted his teeth. "Thank you, O Gabriel, most holy of _fucking_ Archangels," he ground out.

"Guess that's as good a response as I'm going to get from a demon," Gabriel sneered, then stood, straightening his cuffs whilst Crowley tried to gather the wherewithal to miracle himself some trousers. He managed at least some underwear, thankful that Gabriel had been so fastidious about removing spilt bodily fluids from Crowley's skin as well as his own, but didn't have energy enough to dispel the ache radiating through him. As he summoned up a shirt and a pair of jeans perhaps not quite as tight as usual, Crowley tried not to focus on the ache, tried to mentally frame it as a reminder of what a bad idea this whole misadventure had been. Of course, it had the exact opposite effect, and he knew that if he crossed paths with the Archangel again, Crowley would bend over and drop trou before Gabriel even got the chance to miracle them off him.

He got to his feet with a groan, wrapping them up in a new pair of snakeskin boots as he went. The bruises ringed around his neck went, too, but he couldn't bring himself to dismiss the ones circling his hips, or the deep sting echoing up from the very core of him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Gabriel was already giving him an infuriatingly bland smile and disappearing in a flash of lightning.

"Prick," Crowley muttered to the empty shop, then, with an even looser sway to his hips than usual, picked up his discarded sunglasses from the floor and headed back out to join the day.


End file.
